


This Is The Start Of Something New

by loveleedstolarry



Series: This [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Niall's mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:18:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveleedstolarry/pseuds/loveleedstolarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>inspired by a tumblr post tagged with: #imagine harry was stopped on the street by student louis tomlinson   #louis has to do a video report on something interesting   #and he chose this random kid on the street who looked really unique   #so they get to talking and louis asks him to talk about the thing he loves most   #and harry goes silent for a while   #stares at the beautiful lights behind him and he says   #‘i love this city the most because i can get lost and no one will really wonder where i am’   #and that kind of shocks louis; how genuine and honest he sounds   #so he nods along while harry strings together more words more reasons why he loves the city   #and louis just stares and holds his camera up and pays attention to the way harrys hair flies around but it still looks good   #he’s entranced completely until harry stops talking and says hes got to head home now   #louis nods and says thank you for the help and harry turns around and walks down the street with his shoulders up   #and he looks like just another person really but louis is so glad he stopped him   #so louis goes home and replays the tape until he cant keep his eyes open and thats it—hes got to find harry again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is The Start Of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> [here](http://drunkharrystyles.tumblr.com/post/42826375060/imagine-harry-was-stopped-on-the-street-by) is the tumblr post/tags
> 
> credit to [her](http://archiveofourown.org/users/writtensoul/profile) for the tags.

➜ [Read on Tumblr](http://ithinkhesalwaysbrave.tumblr.com/post/43118898427/this-is-the-start-of-something-new)

+

Louis doesn't know why he picked him.  
  
He had just gotten out of film class with his new assignment: a video report on something interesting. What. The. Fuck. Interesting how? Like, interesting as in "look at my dog; he has three legs" interesting or the kind of interesting you tell someone when they're talking to you and you can't be arsed to pay attention so you just say "oh, that's interesting." The teacher, however, had not said a word beyond "something interesting," leaving Louis, and more than half the class, confused and slightly apprehensive about what could be expected from them.  
  
So in the end, Louis doesn't know why he picked him. Maybe it was because he had been looking down at the time so the first thing he noticed was brown boots, walking in his direction, one pigeon-toeing slightly as whomever it was moved. That was interesting. Or maybe it was the fact that it seemed to take an eternity for Louis to drag his gaze up the length of this person's legs. Taking in how the dark denim seemed to hug every inch of length those legs had, Louis had thought that was interesting as well. It could have also been that by the time Louis’ eyes had made their way up the boy's chest, he had already calculated that this person had one of the longest torsos he had ever seen. And when he felt an all too familiar tightening in his jeans, that was- well, that wasn't interesting, that was just Louis being slightly horny. And Louis was always slightly horny, so he didn't find that very interesting, just normal- but the best normal feeling he's had all day. Talking about interesting, the pretty pink tint this boy had to his pouty lips could also be classified as the aforementioned word. Maybe the most interesting thing about this situation though was that Louis had somehow managed to absorb all this information and decide that yes, he was going to do his video project on this boy in a matter of just a few seconds.  
  
Taking a few seconds to take a calming breath and to find the ability to move his feet in a direction that would put him right in front of the boy- they were coming towards each other from opposite ends of this street- Louis figured that the direct approach was the best approach for this situation.  
  
Louis really doesn't find it interesting when he ends up tripping into his self-designated spot- he had planned this to go more smoothly. So, Louis is very surprised when the first word out of the other boy's mouth is, "Oops, sorry, mate."  
  
"Hi," Louis chirps because that is apparently the correct greeting to give someone when you just tripped into their walking path and they really had no fault in this whatsoever. "Um, that's my fault, actually," Louis tries.  
  
Interesting is not a word Louis would use to describe what happens to his stomach when the boy smiles, good-naturedly and runs a hand through his hair. A better word would probably be fuck, because fuck, this boy's got dimples. Two! Although, Louis is quick to note that the left one is slightly more prominent than the other. He then finds himself wondering if this boy does a lot of smirking on that side of his mouth that would cause such a feat.  
  
"No worries, mate. I should watch where I'm going, here in New York, you know?"  
  
And yes, Louis does know because he's been attending school here for the past two years to study film. Aside from his dream of becoming an actor, he wants to be a director as well- but he didn’t figure out that part until he was a senior in high school. He finds fascination in the things that go on behind the cameras as well. It’s good, he thinks, to look at things from both sides. And right now, looking at Harry, all Louis can see are green, green eyes, dimples, and pretty pink lips.  
  
"Right," he says in the most affirmative voice he can manage. Pulling his bottom lip in a little, feeling unsure all of a sudden, now that the impulsive decision has worn off a little, Louis hesitates on the next part. "Listen..."  
  
"Harry," the boy with green eyes, dimples and pretty lips supplies for him.  
  
"Right, Harry," Louis continues. "This is going to sound a little odd..."  
  
Harry smiles easily and Louis thinks it really shouldn't be this easy to make someone smile, but he finds himself thankful anyway. "This is New York, mate. I don't think I've seen normal around here for a long time."  
  
Louis laughs easily at that and any left-over nervousness he was feeling before falls away from him. This could be easy, he thinks. Just don't over-think anything and you'll be fine. "True, true," he allows. "On that note, would you be my video project? For my film class," he tacks on at the end.  
  
Harry blinks at him and he seems to be thinking something over in his head. Louis has a distinct feeling that this something isn't just his simple question. His eyes look too deep to be thinking about anything less than profound. After a few seconds, a feeling of relief washes over the film student when Harry just shrugs and with a smirk- he was right; it tugs up to the left side of his face- says, "Sure, why not?"  
  
Eagerly, Louis reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out the little handheld video camera he always has with him. He has a bigger, more professional one at home, but this one's his baby. It was his first real video camera, given to him as a birthday present when he was a young teen. Back when he just wanted to be an actor and make it big. He brings it everywhere, including the bathroom- hey, someone could experience a life altering moment in there- and Louis doesn't want to miss a second of it. Despite how precious this camera is to him, he almost drops it when he feels a rather large and gentle hand wrap around his bicep.  
  
"Sorry," Harry says, as he tugs on it a little bit, effectively moving them over some. "Don't want to take up space," he explains.  
  
Recovering from his mini heart attack over the thought of dropping the camera- not that he hasn't accidentally dropped it before- Louis just smiles and says, "Like you said, this is New York. There's never enough space."  
  
Harry lets go of his arm then- and maybe Louis just imagined the lingering touch- and smiles at him. "Touché."  
  
Camera-ready, Louis holds the camera up and finds himself taking a tiny step back and tilting the handheld up a little since Harry's a good few inches taller. He makes sure the viewer screen is facing him since he's found that people tend to get a little uncomfortable once they see themselves talking. Pressing the button, Louis starts talking, not self-conscious at all about the people around them- not that they're paying that much attention. "So, Harry, the topic of my assignment is not going to be revealed to you for the sake of keeping you from deciding to change your answers based on the topic," Louis explains. Looking at Harry through the screen, he sees him nod slightly in understanding.  
  
"Wouldn't do that anyway," he says, matter of fact.  
  
Louis believes him.  
  
"Why don't we start off normally by you telling us about yourself." Louis does this because based off his past experiences it seems to make people more comfortable if they get to talk about known facts, so they're not left feeling inadequate. Plus, Louis secretly thinks all humans have a built in desire to talk about themselves.  
  
Harry, however, looks slightly hesitant before he starts talking. "Erm, I'm Harry, and my last name I'd prefer to keep to myself, if that's okay?" He looks away from the little camera lens to look at Louis who gives a nod of both acknowledgement and affirmation before looking back down at the screen. "Yeah, okay. I'm from the UK and I have an older sister, my mum, and a step dad."  
  
"What about your dad?" Louis inquires, not needing to clarify much more than that.  
  
Harry quiets for half a second and Louis thinks he sees his jaw set, but it's gone- replaced by a smile- before he can dwell on it. "Parents are divorced and I never knew my father."  
  
Louis thinks that Harry has no intention of ever meeting his father.  
  
"What made you come to crowded, no-normal-no-room, New York?" Louis asks.  
  
"Traveling," Harry replies easily. "I don't like to sit still or stay in one spot for too long. I get antsy, I suppose."  
  
"Understandable," Louis agrees easily. "Aren't you in school though?"  
  
Louis watches as Harry blushes slightly before saying, "Not really? I kind of just learn on the go and work odd jobs wherever I'm staying."  
  
"How do you manage to spring that?" Louis asks, honestly curious.  
  
"My family has money, I guess you could say," Harry all but mumbles this part. "I-I try not to, like, exploit it though," he tacks on quickly and if Louis finds it endearing that Harry seems nervous about the thought of people thinking poorly about him because of this, well, no one needs to know except himself.  
  
"Sounds like your life is pretty easy, Harry," Louis says. He's careful not to let his tone of voice sound envious or presumptuous, not wanting to offend this pretty, curly haired boy.  
  
"Oh, trust me, I haven't," Harry says with a small laugh. The video camera, however, catches the slight tightening of Harry’s eyes.  
  
Louis will find himself replaying that bit when he reviews the video later.  
  
Right now though, Louis finds himself asking Harry what his hometown is like. Harry’s answer sounds a lot like a lullaby, if he’s being honest. Maybe it’s just because Harry seems to talk slower than an average person. Louis thinks it’s because Harry’s childhood sounds like something you’d expect to find in a dream. He talks about the park near his house that his older sister Gemma used to take him to. He tells him how they used to see who could swing the highest and how, in retrospect, Gemma had always let him win, stating she had a cramp in her leg and couldn’t pump her legs any longer. Harry tells Louis about the time he fell asleep during Gemma’s ballet recital one time and he had felt so bad about it that he had blubbered out his confession to Gemma a few days later; the guilt being too much for his conscience.  
  
Then he tells him how he started traveling. How he had actually taken the first year of college, did a study abroad session and never wanted to leave. He drops names of little countries that Louis’ never heard of. His dimples come out whenever he talks about how his mate, Niall tries everything and anything. Then usually ends up getting sick from eating too much. He tells him about the many, many different ways of transportation there is within each different country and the sights and the smells and the people. Louis finds himself shocked at how much Harry remembers about each individual person, including their name. He’s floored by all the conversations he can retell- and Louis knows it’s word for word. Louis is not surprised that by the time Harry seems to be done, he looks like he just ran a marathon.  
  
“So, Harry, after traveling around so much, what would you say is your favorite place in the world?”  
  
“My favorite place in the world…” Harry starts and Louis expects him to say his hometown since he had seemed almost enchanted while he had been talking about his native place. He expects a fond smile and a gentle laugh to go along with it. What he doesn’t expect is Harry’s answer- “is here, New York.” Louis actually feels his eyes go wide and he thinks Harry must notice because his eyes brighten in amusement. “Were you not expecting that answer?” he inquires curiously.  
  
Louis shakes his head at that. “Not at all. I was expecting you to say Cheshire, if I’m being honest.”  
  
Harry smiles, like he can’t resist the movement when he hears the name of the place he grew up. “Nah, that’s my second favorite though.”  
  
Focusing his camera a bit more, Louis makes sure the battery isn’t running low before he starts in again. “Okay, Harry-whose-last-name-we-don’t-know, what do you love most about this city? What makes this city so great that it ranks first out of the oh so many places you’ve been?”  
  
Harry goes silent for a while and instead fixes his gaze on something behind Louis. he gets the urge to turn around, to make sure no one’s about to mug him or something, but the look in Harry’s eyes quells any of his worries. Zooming in a little, Louis focuses the camera on Harry’s eyes. They’ve got a thoughtful look to them- one that Louis thinks would not be there if there was some dodgy person behind him. Louis watches as his video camera captures the way the city lights catch and reflect in Harry’s eyes. He thinks the green color gives all the other lights a strange tint to them. They look almost ethereal, Louis thinks.  
  
“Would it be corny if I started off with a story?” And the sound of Harry suddenly speaking should have snapped Louis out of whatever daze he had just been in, but somehow his voice just seems to blend into the moment. The slow tone of Harry’s talking complements the musing look that hasn’t left his eyes yet. Somehow, Louis doesn’t need to say anything for Harry to get the message. He continues. “When I was little, I had a habit of getting lost. Like, I got lost a lot. I never did it on purpose either; I just somehow always ended up going in a different direction than whoever was unfortunate enough to be looking after me. It started when I got lost in a food store one time. My mum had been talking on the phone while I was walking behind her. I had gotten distracted by something, a toy, or whatever, but I just found myself slowing down to look at it while my mum just continued walking and turned the corner. By the time I realized I was on my own, I had already moved to a few different aisles. My mum found me, of course, but I always found it odd that I never felt as upset as she clearly did about the fact that I had wondered off.  
  
“As I grew up, instead of getting lost, I would just run away or stay out past curfew. Never too long though, just enough to make my mum a little antsy. I was a terrible child,” Harry adds when he catches Louis’ awestruck expression. “Something changed, I guess, as I continued growing. I still liked running away and getting lost, I just stopped wanting to be found, I think. I liked being by myself. And it’s not like I’m anti-social or anything, obviously-” Harry gestures to all the people around them- “I just like being by myself in the company of other people most times, if that makes sense, and I’m good at it, too.  
  
“So, to answer your question,” Harry says, and Louis thinks he knows where this is going but keeps his mouth shut while silently urging Harry onwards. “I love this city the most because I can get lost and no one will really wonder where I am, you know? Everyone here is kind of caught up in their own thing and they don’t really have time to pay attention to the rest of the world. And maybe that’s a bad thing, but I sort of like how a person can be surrounded by a bunch of other people and still be trapped in their own little bubble, you know?”  
  
And yeah, Louis sort of expected an answer like that, but that didn’t stop him from feeling completely floored by Harry’s open honesty. There was definitely something melancholy about his story but he had managed to make it sound beautiful at the same time. Louis gets the feeling that Harry could get anyone to run away with him. Because that’s what he was doing, Louis thinks; running away.  
  
Harry goes on to talk more about the city and why he loves it so much (it turns out there’s more than just getting lost that draws this boy to this city). Louis listens, he does, he just finds himself often getting distracted by the sporadic gusts of wind that come through. It’s not that the wind’s distracting him directly- he’s not cold and it’s not affecting his camera in any way, shape or form- he just can’t stop focusing on the way it moves through Harry’s hair. It almost seems to be moving with it- cooperating with it. Louis’ never witnessed anything like it. He thinks that’s very interesting; he has never come across a person whose hair the wind actually made look better. Because with all the hair this boy has it should be whipping around manically. He should look like a puffy poodle by now. But no, somehow this avoids Harry altogether. The only gusts of wind that seem to bother him are the ones that make the wisps of curls that are already sticking out flutter a little. Louis finds himself jealous and wanting to run his fingers through it at the same time- wants to see what’s so special about Harry’s curls that the wind seems to like so much.  
  
Louis is pulled out of his reverie by the silence that instills when Harry quiets down. He’s about to open his mouth, to tell Harry to please keep talking about his life- or anything for that matter- suddenly taken by the desire to listen to Harry’s slow lazy drawl for the next few hours- or the rest of his life. Sadly, he doesn’t think his camera has enough battery for that and plus, Harry is now telling him that he has to go. Louis is immediately saddened by the thought of leaving the curly haired boy who talks about his hometown with fond memories, and of New York which he makes sound like a dream.  
  
Clicking off his camera, Louis carefully places it back into his bag. “Thank you so much for your time, Harry. It was really great.”  
  
With a small smile, Harry’s gaze flickers to the ground, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. “Yeah?”  
  
“Absolutely,” Louis reassures him with a smile of his own.  
  
“Well, thanks, Louis. Hopefully your assignment topic wasn’t something too atrocious, like, weird-alien-specimens walking the earth.”  
  
“Well,” Louis teases, wondering fleetingly if what he’s about to do is too forward for someone he just met. Then, thinking he’s probably never going to see this boy again, so, fuck it, he continues. “Your hair does look rather alien.” And with that, Louis reaches up to pet at the chocolaty curls, taking note of how Harry’s eyes flutter close immediately, small smile on his lips. Louis thinks it’s odd that Harry seems so trusting in the presence of a practical stranger- touching his hair of all things. He also thinks he looks like a content kitten, but he’s too busy touching the curly hair to pay much attention to that. They’re very soft.  
  
“Thank you,” and it takes a second for Louis to belatedly realize he had voiced that last part. Oops. Oh well, too late now.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Louis says quietly, retracting his hand with more reluctance than he expected.  
  
“It was very nice meeting you, Louis-whose-last-name-I-don’t-know,” Harry says with a smile.  
  
“Tomlinson,” Louis finds himself blurting out. “My last name is Tomlinson,” he says lamely.  
  
“Well, Louis Tomlinson-” and Louis shutters slightly at the sound of his name in the low tone of Harry’s voice- “I do believe you make this city that much greater.”  
  
Louis blushes at that. “Thank you-”  
  
“Styles,” Harry cuts in and Louis is confused for a few moments until Harry adds, “Harry Styles.”  
  
Louis feels like he’s on cloud nine. With a newfound giddiness and even more butterflies in his stomach, he thrusts a hand out. “Well, Harry Styles, I hope to see you again in New York, or wherever.”  
  
Wrapping one of his large hands around Louis’ petit one, Harry looks Louis in the eye and says, “I’m sure you will. I’ve got something to come back for now, don’t I?” and just like that, the butterflies in Louis’ stomach somehow morph into hummingbirds instead.  
  
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “Goodbye, Harry.”  
  
Harry lets go of his hand at that- which Louis just now realizes he’d been holding for longer than what was probably necessary- and tips an invisible hat to him. And then he’s walking away, back in whatever direction he had been going when Louis had tripped into his path. Louis makes it few steps before he cracks and looks over his shoulder. He makes a full stop to turn completely back around when he doesn’t immediately see the tall, curly haired boy with green eyes. After a few seconds of searching, Louis thinks he spots the soft hair blowing in the wind, but he can’t be too sure. Harry blends in too well; Louis loses sight of him easily. When he turns around, he has a smile on his face, thinking how Harry would have probably liked that.  
  
+  
  
Pushing his glasses up from where they had slipped down his nose again, Louis clicks through his newly acquired video footage. He watches it more times than he’d care to admit. He watches Harry’s mouth as he speaks about Cheshire, trying to catch all the times he smiles at a childhood memory. He replays the part where the wind starts to pick up, staring quite creepily at his computer screen as he tries to count the individual strands of hair that the wind seems to play with during that bit of the interview. It’s after he wakes up for the third time that night- or early morning- to the sight of Harry’s eyes staring back at him that he finally makes up his mind. As he drags some audio to the beginning of the video, the same thing nags at his brain. He thinks his decision’s a little creepy at first, but as he drags the clipping of Harry’s eyes to the beginning of the video and press play, he starts to think this could be the best and worst idea he’s ever had.  
  
Watching as the video fades into a slowed version of green eyes looking beyond him, Harry’s voiceover starts to play. “When I was little, I had a habit of getting lost.” And as that clip fades into the original beginning of the video, Louis decides that yes, Harry Styles is definitely lost.  
  
But he also decides then and there that he sort of really wants to find him- and maybe even keep him.

**Author's Note:**

> editing later 'cause i got math homework to start! yikes! let me know what you think though! xx
> 
> ps- there may be a sequel to this one so let me know what you think about that too xx


End file.
